


a bit of history

by ghostinthebook



Series: beautifully bisexual [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Character Study, Gen, Magnus Bane Is A Freewheeling Bisexual, POV Magnus Bane, Pride, it's more of a magnus fic than a malec fic, looked on a lot of wikipedias on LGBTQ+ history for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 10:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19130260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostinthebook/pseuds/ghostinthebook
Summary: Magnus Bane has known he's bisexual before there was even a word for it.





	a bit of history

**Author's Note:**

> inspired largely by some tumblr posts by kinkymagnus. a very bi fic. little tw, there's some internalized biphobia/homophobia from when he hadn't accepted himself yet. i tried to address as many things as i could, and i probably didn't do it justice, but i tried. enjoy!!!

Magnus Bane was bisexual.

The word “bisexual” hadn’t even existed all that long; it was first made in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s, and not in popular use until the 1950’s.

But it was something Magnus had known for almost his entire life.

He liked girls. That was easy to accept in whatever century, whatever place he was in. He liked everything about women, he loved them. His first love, his first real, lasting love, who had stayed with him for a lifetime, was a woman. She had stayed with him until she died. He had loved her so much, and mourned her. He had dated many women over the centuries. There was no doubt about it; he was attracted to women.

He liked guys. That fact was much harder to accept. The first time he knew was when his mother was still alive. He had seen a boy, his age, and thought about holding his hand. About holding him. He knew nothing of sex, barely anything of kissing; he was less than ten years old, of course he knew nothing of it. He just knew he liked that boy the same way he liked the girl he had seen a week prior. He didn’t tell anyone, he knew enough of the world around him to know that he shouldn’t, he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell anyone that he liked guys.

He had hated himself for it, at times. Especially early on, when he was just figuring out who he was. He could barely accept that he was a warlock, a demon’s child. This just felt like another hurdle for him to overcome. When he was taken care of by the Silent Brothers, in Spain, he found a path out of the Silent City and into a nearby church. He snuck up there sometimes, out of boredom and curiosity. He listened to the sermons, looked upon the face of the Virgin Mary, made out of stone. He felt like his attraction to men was another mark on his soul. Another sin he needed to repent of.

Though he doubted he would end up in heaven, anyway.

Eventually, he learned to accept this fact about himself.

At first, it was a shameful acceptation. He figured out he couldn’t change this about himself. That it was just the way he was. He was thankful that he liked girls as well, that it was possible for him to hide in the crowd, in a sense. Though, for himself, he could not forget. He never forgot. And he hated himself for it.

Then, he was fine with it. He wasn’t proud, but he wasn’t ashamed. It was simply a fact about him. His name was Magnus Bane, he was born in Indonesia, he was a warlock, and he liked both men and women. There was nothing he could do about it, and he was fine with that. When he got to that point in his acceptance, he dated a man for the first time.

It was wonderful. It felt different than dating a girl, but… still good. He liked it.

Then, after years of being fine with it, he was proud of it. If someone had a problem with it, then that was their problem. He would continue being himself. He didn’t care what others thought. Once there was a word for it, he said it with pride. He was bisexual. He loved that about himself.

Over the years, he had gone back to being ashamed, many times. Never for as long as the first time, but it crept up on him unexpectedly. It was a dark shadow, a demon waiting to grab him when he was vulnerable. A demon in his mind, trying to tell him to be ashamed. He tried not to listen to it.

Sometimes, he failed. But, other times, he was able to resist. It was always a battle, but eventually, he would win. He would be proud.

In the centuries where he had to hide, not because of himself, but because of society, he learned the code. He wore a green carnation on his lapel, and spoke in double meanings. He was proud of who he was, most of the time, but it was hard.

He loved when times were accepting. When he could walk down the street, holding a man’s hand. When he didn’t have to hide.

The first Pride parade was in Chicago. June 27th, 1970. He went there. He laughed, he cried. He loved the opportunity to show others how unashamed he was of himself.

The bisexual pride flag was made in 1998. He wore the pink, purple, and blue to the next Pride. He waved the flag around with tears in his eyes, happy tears.

It was getting easier and easier to tell people who he was.

It was still hard, sometimes. He couldn’t count how many times people were biphobic towards him. When someone thought he wanted a threesome, even after he tells them he’s decidedly monogamous. Others who think he’s cheating, or unsatisfied with them because they are not a girl, or not a boy. Saying he’s “straight-passing” and that he shouldn’t be included in LGBTQ+ matters. Invalidating his bisexuality.

Camille was one of the worst. She tried so many times to get him to have a threesome, even though he had said multiple times that he didn’t want to. She said things that, centuries later, he still wouldn’t repeat. It was a horrible situation, and he was glad that it was far over.

Some years, he dated more women than men. Others, more men than women. Him dating a woman didn’t make him any less bisexual, and the opposite was equally true.

He had many exes. Etta, George, Camille, Freddie, Kitty, Dot, Imasu.

Losing them was never easy.

Some he lost to old age. As an immortal, he would inevitably lose everyone.

Some he lost to illness. Especially in the 1980's, when the AIDS crisis happened. He lost way too many friends, way to many people, to that.

Some left him. When they learned about his heritage, and called him a monster. When they found out they could never have children with him, that it was biologically impossible. When they thought he was “too much”. When he tells them that he’s bisexual. When they tell him that a future with him is impossible, because of his race, his gender, his immortality.

Over the centuries, he had went over the cycle of shame to acceptance many times. He was in accepting communities, and then not. Sometimes, his sexuality wasn’t a problem, but his race was, or vice versa. It was different, in every place, every time, he had been.

Sometimes, he helped others with their sexuality. He talked to them, held them as they cried.

People asked why he wore his makeup, why he didn’t dress like many men tended to. Why he would “out himself” like that. He answered that he wore it because he wanted to. He wore it because if people are going to be staring at him anyway, he’d at least be good-looking while they stared. He wore it because it didn’t say anything about his sexuality, it just looked good. It made him feel confident. It made him feel proud.

The recent years had been kind to him. There were more LGBTQ+ rights, at least in America, than there was for quite a long time. Gay marriage was legal for the mundanes, and though the Shadow World had never made it illegal, it was still leaps and bounds for the world in general. He could tell anyone that he was bisexual. There was still a chance that someone would be homophobic, or biphobic, but it was much less of a chance than it had been in nearly a century.

Today, he was going to his forty-seventh Pride parade. Some years, he went alone. Others, he went with friends, or a boyfriend or girlfriend.

This year, he had a husband. Alexander. That was a first.

He had his bi pride flag, a t-shirt with the pink, purple, and blue. Alexander had the same, but with the gay pride colors.

“Ready to go?” Alec had asked, as Magnus reached out to grab his hand.

“Yeah,” he said, opening up a Portal to take them there.

Magnus Bane was bisexual.

And he was proud of it.


End file.
